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“It’s not my fault they all want more of this.” Chris motions his hands like he’s a fucking prize.

I shake my head. “I don’t think they want more of that as much as they want your real phone number after a one-night stand.”

Chris shrugs. “Excuse me for not being able to quote Whitman to a woman as she’s walking out the door.”

“It’s called being a gentleman,” I say as we reach the front door of the bar.

“I just want a change of pace. If it’s not cool, we’ll leave.” Ryan walks through as I hold it for them.

“You’re buying then.” I take my beanie off and tuck it into my back pocket. Then, I run a hand over my hair to make sure it’s smooth.

“Fuck that. Not all of us have a trust fund big enough to buy this bar if we wanted to,” Chris says.

My friends might be idiots, but they’re smart idiots. Ryan is a financial forecaster who already has three job offers on the table. Chris is an advertising major, like me, who’s most likely going to start his first job as a coffee boy but will quickly climb up the corporate ladder.

My fate is already written in stone at my family’s company in San Francisco—Sexton Media, where I’ll be the President of Marketing and Advertising.

“Fine, but as soon as you meet someone, I’m out.” I get a bartender’s attention and order a round of beers.

Despite our best efforts to blend in, my college buddies and I stick out like sore thumbs in the pretentious surroundings. I’ll admit though, the place seems pretty cool even if it’s not my kind of scene.

The bar is packed with the after-work mob. Back home in San Francisco, happy hour starts at five. In Manhattan, happy hour is like Happy Midnight since people get out of work at all hours of the day. This place is better suited for my older brothers, Bryce and Austin. Well, actually, no. Just Bryce. Austin rips off his suit as soon as he possibly can.

Chris has quickly zeroed in on a group of women sitting around a table by the window. He walks over and introduces himself with a, “Hello, ladies,” as smooth as he can.

They quickly look right through his bullshit. Any man who addresses a group of women like that is saying he doesn’t care who comes home with him as long as they suck his dick.

“The sad part is, I put money down that he goes home with one of those girls,” Ryan says in my ear.

I let out a laugh, knowing he’s right. “How does he do it?”

“He pretty much hangs out long enough until one of them gets desperate and settles.”

“A consolation lay?”

Ryan shrugs. “Hey, as long as it’s consensual, I don’t think the guy gives a shit.”

“What about you? Anyone in here catch your eye?” I ask him.

He’s looking around the room, taking in the inventory. Ryan is all talk about picking up women, but he’s actually pretty reserved. He likes a wingman to make the initial approach. Once he’s got a girl in conversation, I usually make my way back toward the bar.

“Right there.” He hits me in the chest like he just witnessed a shooting star.

I look up to where he’s nodding.

“The redhead sipping on her straw. Holy shit, she’s gorgeous.”

He’s right. The girl he’s staring at is incredibly attractive. Long hair and large breasts pushed up in her tight dress. She’s sophisticated, and she has the posture of a woman who would eat him up alive.

But she’s not the most beautiful woman in the room. Next to her is a beauty with curly blonde hair and icy-blue eyes. Her skin is like porcelain lined with a button nose and a pouty mouth. She’s scanning the room and biting on her lower lip like this is the last place she wants to be.

Ryan starts walking toward them, and I follow. As we get closer, my gaze travels from the blonde’s face down toward the creamy skin of her décolletage. Her dress covers up her upper body, but her curves are severe enough to show off a sexy silhouette. I do a visual skim down her body and become distracted by her gorgeously toned legs that seem to go on for days. She’s a goddess in black. A muse in a sea of ordinary.

“Ladies,” Ryan drawls out, stopping next to the redhead. “How are we doing tonight?”

The short-haired beauty turns away from him just to roll her eyes. The action makes me smile. Her friend hits her in the arm and gives her a wide expression, as if telling her not to be rude.

“What’s the matter? You don’t want to be approached tonight?” Ryan asks.